


love they say

by consultingwives (westminsterabi)



Series: Quinlock Shorts [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cuddling, Cute lesbians, F/F, Female John, Female Sherlock, Femlock, Fluff, Morning Sex, Rule 63, Songfic, Touching, quinlock, tegan and sara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westminsterabi/pseuds/consultingwives
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock tenses and their bodies draw closer together. “I was just saying, about the day we met. It was the best day of my life. You are so incredible, I missed you before I even knew you existed. And then you showed up and it was like everything—I don’t know.” John giggles.</p><p>Songfic for the song "Love they Say" by Tegan and Sara. To make up for the total angst of the last one of these I did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	love they say

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spectacularlyignorantdetective](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectacularlyignorantdetective/gifts).



_The first time I saw your face._

Sherlock still remembers it. It was as if the world tilted, something moved within her and said to her that _this one is special_. That something has been right for the past two years, thinks Sherlock as she wakes up spooning John—or rather, with John spooning her, since Sherlock is consistently the little spoon.

 

_I knew I was meant for you._

 

That day, Sherlock went home to Montague Street and lay in her bed, sighing at the ceiling, fantasising about one John Watson whose name she still didn’t know. She wondered where they would go, what they might do together, if John would even _like_ her or just think she was completely bizarre.

 

_The first time you said my name._

“Ah, Ms. Holmes,” John said. Sherlock still has that moment stuck in her mind like a fly in amber.

 

_I knew I was meant for you._

“Sherlock, please.” Sherlock said. That was it, she was smitten.

 

_Love, they say it heals all wounds._

John said “brilliant,” John said “fantastic,” John said “amazing,” as if they weren’t the strangest words ever to grace the lips of womankind when it came to Sherlock Holmes. As if she weren’t irritating beyond belief, as if everyone didn’t just think that she was trying to show off. As if everyone didn’t call her a prying bitch.

 

_Love, removes the hurt in you._

Sherlock squirms backwards, closer to John, who moans sleepily.

 

_Love, I know they say that this is true._

A lazy arm lands on Sherlock’s shoulder, and a cool hand runs down her arm, caressing her, perhaps unconsciously. The touch is warm, welcome, and amazingly intimate. It sends chills down her spine, and Sherlock feels absolutely content in this moment.

 

_Love, they say that it is blind._

Sherlock feels a foot below hers, toes tickling her feet. She tickles John back and tangles their ankles together, now pretty sure that John is awake.

 

_Love, they say it all the time._

“Good morning, love,” says John, pressing herself closer into Sherlock’s back, smushing her face into Sherlock’s flannel, bee-patterned pyjamas. Sherlock feels her take a deep breath. “You smell like flowers.”

 

“Really?”

 

_Love, I know that they are right._

 

“Well, something good.”

 

_(love, they say this)_

“Do you want to?” asks Sherlock, craning her neck and giving John a soft peck on the lips.

 

“Of course,” says John, and Sherlock can hear the rustle of John removing her pyjama shorts underneath the covers. “Flip over, bee.”

 

_You don’t need to wonder._

Sherlock rolls over. “I was thinking about the day that we met. Or the days we met, rather. Those first twenty-four hours.”

 

John cracks a smile, and Sherlock watches the little crinkles underneath her eyes. “Our first case.” They’re face-to-face now, and Sherlock leans in and gives John a sloppy kiss. The two of them mould to each other, skin touching and rubbing against each other. Their hands meet and John’s hand trails away and towards Sherlock’s tiny bum, which John gives a squeeze.

 

_If love will make us stronger._

 

Sherlock squeals.

 

_There’s nothing love can’t do._

 

John chuckles and breaks off the kiss, pulls off Sherlock’s pyjama pants, and dives underneath the covers; she is soft and sweet and slow and everything perfect; her hands run up and down Sherlock’s thighs and Sherlock stops breathing for a brief moment before she gasps and relaxes.

 

_(love, they say this)_

 

John comes up and caresses Sherlock’s breasts, soft squashy lumps that fit in John’s palm, and Sherlock touches John’s shoulder blades.

 

_You don’t need to worry._

“What were you saying?” asks John. She looks a bit like an imp, with a satisfied smirk on her face.

 

_This love will make us worthy._

Sherlock tenses and their bodies draw closer together. “I was just saying, about the day we met. It was the best day of my life. You are so incredible, I missed you before I even knew you existed. And then you showed up and it was like everything—I don’t know.” John giggles.

 

_There’s nothing love can’t do._

 

John moves slightly rhythmically against Sherlock’s hips, and Sherlock reaches down towards the space between John’s legs, and she pushes, rapid and fast like John likes it, before she too ducks beneath the duvet until John cries out “oh yes, oh god yes.”

 

_The first time you held my hand._

 

Sherlock continues, muffled from beneath the sheets. “I was just telling you how amazing you are.” She wiggles back up, so they’re face-to-face again, and throws a casual arm across John’s chest. “I’m not kidding; the first time I saw you I thought that you were the most beautiful girl that I had ever seen.”

 

_I knew I was meant for you._

 

“Lies!” cries John, laughing. She pushes Sherlock’s hand away. “You’re lying! That can’t possibly be true!”

 

_The first time you kissed my lips._

“How many times have I told you this?” asks Sherlock, pouting.

 

“Too many, and each time you get more audacious.”

 

_I knew I was meant for you._

 

“I do not!”

 

John giggles. “Okay, fine, I believe you.” She gives her a soft kiss.

 

_Love, they say there’s only one._

 

Sherlock slips a hand up John’s pyjama shirt and wraps a large hand around one of John’s breasts. She flicks her thumb over one of her nipples, and John sighs contentedly. “I’m just telling the truth,” she says.

 

_Love, the kind that’s not undone._

“Fine,” says John. “If you must know, I thought the same thing about you. I walked into that room at Bart’s and caught your face and nearly gasped out loud and couldn’t image what a stunning woman was doing in my mediocre little homely life.”

 

Sherlock gives a mock gasp of indignation. “Homely? I never! Look at this nose.” She runs a finger down the bridge of John’s nose and gives it a tiny gentle flick. “Look at these eyes.” She gives John a kiss on each cheek. She wraps one leg around John’s.

 

_Love, I know you are the one._

 

“And then,” continues John. “You turned out to be the most brilliant girl I’ve ever met, and yes, that includes your ridiculous sister, so it turns out you have the brains _and_ the beauty and I’m not really sure what I’ve got going for me here. You’re probably just holding out until you find someone cuter.”

 

_I know they’ll say that we’re crazy._

 

“I would never!”

 

_(tell me there is nothing love can’t do)_

John presses her leg harder against Sherlock’s, so they’re intertwined even more tightly.

 

_I know you’ll say that we’re crazy._

 

John makes a kissy noise. “Mwa.” Sherlock remembers the first time that they kissed, when John leaned into her and she leaned into John and they both decided to take a leap of faith, they let their lips meet.

 

Sherlock makes the same noise back. “Mwa.”  

 

_There’s nothing love can’t do._


End file.
